Rendezvous
by Alex L. Kerr
Summary: Sam and Dean must drop everything and reach their rendezvous point when an epic apocalypse hits in 1995. Preseries AU. Dean is 14/15, Sam is 10/11.
1. Chapter 1

**Writer's Note:** Okay new story. This doesn't mean I'm going to neglect Clean Slate - I just felt like writing about the beginning of an epic apocalypse today. That's normal, right?

* * *

Dean kept the cheap motel curtains back with his hand, staring open-mouthed at the sky in awe.

"Dean..." Sam whispered behind him. "Where's dad?"

Thunder erupted overhead and lightning could be seen within the massive black cloud pulsing its way towards the clear blue skies directly overhead.

"I don't know, Sammy," Dean managed to say over the sound of his hammering heart beat. "Start packing," he whispered.

"But Dean..." Sam murmured, "Dad."

Dean turned around, finally fixing his brother with the same unblinking gaze he had on the encroaching cloud.

"I know, Sammy," he said softly, then pushed past him. "Start packing anyway."

The switch had been flipped. Dean hurriedly grabbed his duffel and set it on the bed as he went around the room picking up their things. Sam watched, dumbfounded.

"Dean-" Sam's voice cracked. "Are we just gonna leave Dad?"

In the midst of his rush, Dean stopped and looked up at Sam.

"Sam, do as I say. _Now_," he yelled as he threw Sam's duffle at him. Sam reacted fast enough to catch it and, reluctantly following his brother's orders, jogged over to his own bed. He started picking up his brother's rate of movement, throwing clothes haphazardly into the bag. The atmosphere was charging anxiety into both of them as they worked.

The daylight streaming from the window slowly extinguished and Sam stopped moving to look outside, feeling an overwhelming dread as the cloud pushed in and eclipsed the sky over their motel. The room went dark as the cloud continued to expand beyond, its opacity increasing directly overhead.

Sam vaguely heard a click. He flinched around to see Dean lowering his hand from the bed stand light switch. He looked at Sam urgently, his features sharp and shadowed by the stale yellow light. It suddenly felt like it was eight, maybe nine at night.

"C'mon Sam!" Dean's voiced pitched in fear. Sam started to tremble as he ran back to his duffel and started whipping things into his bag without regard. He vaguely heard keys jangling and looked up just as Dean reached for the motel room door.

"Dean! No!" Sam shouted. Dean turned around, eyes wide.

"Sam, it's going to be okay. Get the stuff together - I'll be right back, I promise," he said quickly. Before Sam could stop him, he'd opened the door and slammed it behind him. Sam ran to the window and pulled the curtains back to watch Dean's single-minded trip to the car's trunk. Jumping back and forth in anxiety, Sam prayed for Dean to get back to him as soon as possible. He looked up at the sky - lightning flickered within the cloud's blackness. It hadn't grounded yet.

"DEAN!" Sam called, unable to contain his desperation. Dean heard him through the window and on reflex looked up and directly into Sam's eyes through the window. Realizing Sam was just scared, Dean disregarded the call and turned his gaze back to the trunk. Oblivious to witnesses (of which there were none), he grabbed the sawed-off, packed a handgun into his waistband, banged the trunk door shut, and sprinted back to the motel room.

He shut the door behind him. Sam moved up to him and Dean put his hand on his shoulder and looked into his eyes.

"Sammy, it's gonna be okay. You gotta listen to me, though, okay? Trust me. Can you do that?"

Sam gulped and nodded, a tear slipping down his cheek. Dean pulled his hand from Sam's shoulder, cupped his cheek and wiped the tear away.

"Dad's gonna be okay. We're gonna meet him at the rendezvous, you understand me?"

Sam nodded again, his eyes widening. The rendezvous was the worst-case scenario.

"Dean... What's happening?" He rasped. Dean pursed his lips with angry determination.

"Nothing we can't handle," Dean said with conviction and squeezed Sam's shoulder. Sam blinked and tried to draw strength from his brother. "Got it?"

"Got... Got it," Sam said, his voice shaking. Local emergency sirens started blaring in the distance. Sam reacted to look outside again but Dean pulled him back.

"Ignore it, Sam, Sammy, you got it? You with me?" Dean asked again, looking at Sam sharply. Sam, unnerved by the alarms, started trembling more, but steadied himself at Dean's insistence. Dean's expression softened as he squeezed his brother's shoulder once, twice, then roughly pulled him into a hug. Sam felt the sawed-off shotgun in Dean's hand thump against his back and gave in to the momentary show of affection.

As fast as it started, it ended with Dean ripping away and reigniting. He pushed past Sam and grabbed both duffels off the two double beds. He threw them over his shoulder, the shotgun still held at the ready in his other hand, and looked around gravely.

"This it?"

"Yeah," Sam confirmed. Dean stepped forward determinedly and pulled the curtains back again to look outside. As if on cue, a harsh scream pierced through the air nearby and strangled off into a high-pitched moan.

"Dean?" Sam called in fear as the voice continued wheezing loudly through the parking lot grounds outside.

"Shit," Dean whispered vehemently as he turned and pulled Sam away from the window. Dean held Sam securely, facing him away from the window, as he bent down to look up into the ten year old's pale, stricken face.

"Sam, listen to me. We're going outside-"

"No!" Sam cried immediately, "Dean, no-"

"Sam, _Sammy_ - listen to me, _listen_ to me," Dean said, his irregular breaths belying the calm in his voice. He wiped Sam's bangs back frenetically, trying to overwhelm Sam's senses with his own presence, "Sam you just hold on to me and stay _right behind_ me, do you understand? Right behind me."

Sam was hyperventilating his cries by now, but he managed to nod to Dean.

"Good, good boy. How clear am I?"

Sam gasped and tried to speak but couldn't find a spare breath.

"Sam? Sammy how clear am I? C'mon buddy," Dean said as he kept brushing Sam's hair, rubbing his shoulders, touching his face. It proved distracting and Sam's bearings started coming back to him.

"C-crystal," Sam rasped.

"Good job, I'm crystal clear. C'mon," Dean stood up immediately and turned his back on Sam. "Hold on to me now, Sam, c'mon," he coached and felt Sam's vise-like grip suddenly latch onto his waist. "Good boy, good job kiddo," he praised as he grabbed the bags and pulled them over his shoulder. He wiped the sweat off his face before picking up the sawed-off. He rested his other hand protectively against Sam's back behind him. Dean moved to the motel room door, his brother in immediate step next to him.

Dean gave himself a few deep breaths as he stared at the motel room door. On the last breath, his lips curled into a vicious grimace just before pulling the door open with the shotgun aimed and ready.

The parking lot was empty; the source of the scream was nowhere to be found. Without hesitation Dean took advantage of the silence and moved out, his little brother latched to him in tow. The wind whipped past them and seemed to whistle just as loudly as the blaring town sirens. The twilight dark of the cloud overhead cast shadows, tricking Dean's perception. Pupils blown, Dean remained vigilant as he ushered his shivering brother closer and closer to the Impala. They were almost home free until a shriek emitted nearby.

"Help me, god help me please! Please!" The panicked shrill trailed off as the woman staggered in her approach towards them. Dean whirled around in a panic towards the noise, angling his gun directly at the woman.

Dean couldn't be sure if the black liquid was blood or something else covering the whole side of her face. He wasn't taking any chances and leveled the shotgun at her head.

"Stay back!" he commanded. His teeth gritted as Sam's clutch on him tightened. Dean pulled Sam into him closer as he started backing away from the woman. She slowed at Dean's order, but still stalked them with shambling footsteps.

"Please! Pleaaaase help meeee," she growled deeply, continuing her approach.

"I said _stay back!_" Dean ordered again, his voice full of fury and threat. At the end of his words, he vaguely heard Sam's muffled sob calling out his name behind him. Dean ignored it and kept roughly pushing Sam back towards the Impala. Just as they reached it, the woman started grunting huffs of breaths.

Dean knew he had few precious moments before the woman would take her shot. In a flash of fluid movement, Dean lowered his shotgun, ripped the Impala's driver's seat open, shoved Sam inside, and slammed the door in Sam's face. The woman blasted an ear-splitting howl and launched herself straight at Dean.

"DEAN!" Sam screamed as he watched the inhuman woman tackle Dean down to the pavement. They struggled a few moments on the pavement, Dean fighting to maneuver the shotgun in line with a lethal hit. Before Sam could open the door, the shotgun sounded loudly and drummed against Sam's ears. The ringing in his head dulled and Sam scrambled forward to open the car door. As it swung open, he caught view of Dean lying on his back on the ground. The woman lay motionless on the pavement beyond.

"DEAN!" Sam cried out again, making Dean flinch on the ground, fall his head to the side, and open his eyes to see Sam.

"Sam, _stay there_!" Dean warned in pain. Sam didn't move.

"_Dean_ get _up_!" Sam screamed. Dean rolled over and sorely dragged his wrists along the pavement to push himself up.

"_Now_, Dean!" Sam yelled, making Dean shudder with urgency again and shift his weight to roll his knees up and take a small crouching step forward.

"Dean! Dean! Get the _fuck_ in here!" Sam called desperately. Dean's knee almost buckled as he took another step forward. He braced himself with a hand against the cement before pushing off again to get into the Impala.

"_Quiet_," Dean whispered back forcefully as he stumbled his way towards the car door. He finally reached the driver's seat and folded himself inside. Hands covered in blood and sweat trickling into his eyes, Dean fumbled with the keys to start the car.

"How bad are you? - Can you drive?"

"I can drive," Dean replied softly as he grabbed Sam harshly and pulled him closer to his side. He let go of Sam, turned the engine over, shifted, and regripped his little brother before jamming his foot on the accelerator. He deftly maneuvered the car with his left hand as he held his little brother tight to make sure the kid wouldn't go flying. He took quick breaks and sharp turns to pull them out of the motel and onto the street.

It was four in the afternoon and the roads were dark; the town hadn't yet turned on the streetlights despite the black clouds above having blotted out sunlight fifteen minutes ago.

Dean squinted for accuracy as he drove down the deserted local main street. His tight grip remained on Sam, distinctly aware of his brother's presence and unwilling to give it up. Sam realized Dean wouldn't be letting go any time soon and positioned himself more comfortably against Dean's side. He placed his hands over the arm Dean had wrapped across his chest. Dean pressed Sam against him reassuringly and Sam leaned in.

"Where... where is everybody?" Sam whispered, feeling as empty as the street they were currently rolling through.

"They... must think it's a tornado," Dean murmured, disturbed as he envisioned the inhabitants of this town - families and innocents - huddling like sitting ducks in storm shelters and porcelain tubs just waiting to get picked off. Dean regripped Sam tighter against his chest as he drove. Silence fell upon the two of them as they tried to come to terms. Sam reached for the radio but Dean pulled him back.

"Wha-?"

"Don't. Just... Not yet, Sammy," Dean whispered the plea, not sure if he'd be able to handle the radio reports. Sam fell back against Dean, silently acquiescing. They passed Sam's junior high, the local barber shop, the small mom 'n pop grocery store... All deserted, every color muted.

It was already a ghost town. Sam didn't understand his own certainty, but he simply knew this town was forsaken.

"Dean?" Sam breathed heavily.

"Yeah?"

"Is this what killed mom?" Sam asked solemnly.

Dean's lips curled in frustrated concentration at the road sign ahead and made a last-minute turn towards the interstate.

"Dean?" Sam prompted, looking up at his brother. Dean sensed Sam's attention and shook his head slowly.

"No, Sammy," he whispered, "This isn't what killed mom."

They turned got onto the highway. It was equally deserted.

"Jesus," Dean sighed worriedly, blinking tears back, "Nobody's getting out."

Dean pushed the accelerator to reach eighty-five and worked to keep his hand steady on the wheel. A massive explosion went off in the distance, pulling Dean off-guard. He gave a double-take and felt Sam strain across his body to see out the driver's side window. A huge fireball flickered into sight above the treeline that bordered expressway. Layers of swirling flames peeled off into the sky as the ball rolled and twisted, expanding and rising higher, emitting brilliant burning firelight into the blackened sky - and onto the darkly-lit highway. Dean blinked the sweat out of his eyes and sped up, taking advantage of the increased visibility. Pitch black smoke circled around and drifted off in waves over the surrounding countryside.

"It's a power plant," Sam murmured, unable to take his eyes off it. Dean bit his lip with worry, tears starting to threaten his eyesight again. This was just the beginning. The world was burning. Dean straightened and kept his eyes on the road, ordering himself to stay in the present. To keep Sam safe. To get to the rendezvous.

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**Writer's Note:** Thank you so much for reading! Please please let me know what you thought - any and _all_ feedback is adored if you can spare the time. Thank you! ~ Alex


	2. Chapter 2

_Previously..._

_This was just the beginning. The world was burning. Dean straightened and kept his eyes on the road, ordering himself to stay in the present. To keep Sam safe. To get to the rendezvous._

* * *

The wind was picking up pace and couldn't decide on a direction. The rain was coming down hard, smacking the Impala on all sides. The headlights cut through the foggy darkness as cars started coming onto the highway with them. It was nearing five o'clock. The sky was an eerie dark gray; visibility was higher in terms of light, but the rain made it worse.

Dean still had Sam huddled up against him. The injuries he'd sustained fighting the woman off him earlier weren't serious. The blood had started to dry and Dean knew they didn't even need stitches. He glanced down at his little brother and gave him a squeeze.

"Coming up to the city," he mumbled. He felt Sam nod against him.

"Can I turn the radio on now?" Sam asked, his voice small.

"Yeah go ahead."

Sam leaned forward and reached to the radio console. Static.

"We're on FM, Sammy. Turn it to AM," Dean said quietly. More static as Sam switched it and started dialing the frequencies.

Dean kept a careful eye out on the road. More and more cars were coming out onto the highway, thank god. Unfortunately, some of them were driven by panicked survivors. Dean was careful to stay on the far side of the highway whenever a merge lane came into view. SUVs, sedans, trucks all sped onto the highway like bats out of hell to meet Dean's calm Impala. Some would slow down, no doubt starting to feel the effects of an adrenaline crash. Most would keep speeding down the highway though, not ready to stop sprinting away from whatever they had encountered and escaped from in their homes. Dean couldn't guess which creatures from hell would blow over onto this plane; he only knew it would be a mass slaughter.

The vehicles would outstrip Dean within the blink of an eye and Dean didn't mind. He knew this wasn't a race. This was going to be a long struggle, possibly for the rest of their lives. Dean glanced down at Sam, feeling a pull of terror and grief that this was going to be Sam's life now.

Sam fiddled with the dial carefully, trying not to jerk it with his trembling hand. A voice started crackling through the radio.

"Ah... I think I got something," Sam said.

Dean nodded, listening, as he spotted something far off in the distance. The radio's static cleared and the voice came on crisp. The anchor sounded stressed and confused. After a few words, it was obvious that the production team was giving him notes and information while he was on air.

"Okay... Um... Bernalillo, Sandoval, Torrance, and Valencia counties are all on emergency alert for the weather and the outpouring of bizarre reports of injury and damages. We don't know the full extent of what is going on right now but families and individuals are urged to stay in their homes..." The transmission turned into a soft static as Dean and Sam could hear papers getting shuffled and people talking with low voices to the anchor. Dean's jaw was clenched as he listened, frustrated that people were being told to do the wrong thing by staying home. He was getting closer to the city and he was approaching the vague 'thing' he'd seen in the distance. He was no closer to recognizing it: it seemed like a grey layer of activity just above the road. Dean ruled out a build-up of traffic or cars: he didn't see a lot of headlights (or brake lights) illuminating the area. Whatever it was, he was starting to get nervous as they drove on. Dean slowed down to sixty, letting the other cars whiz past on their way towards whatever it was. The man on the radio coughed and spoke up again.

"Um, uh... The Albuquerque police have not yet released statements of designated safety zones although they have promised that information within the hour. If you decide to get out of the city center, please do not, I repeat, DO NOT head west - as the entire regions south east of us have been impacted by this event. FEMA and the national guard have been called in but have not yet arrived," the man took a steadying breath, "Um, we are trying to figure out what the nature of this emergency truly is but-"

Dean shifted and straightened, leaning forward as the layer's details started becoming more pronounced as they approached, "-as yet we have not received any reliable figures or facts. Our correspondents have been sent out-"

"Sammy turn off the radio," Dean ordered, his eyes wide at the scene in the distance, starting to recognize it for what it was. He had been right about one thing: the build-up ahead was not stand-still traffic.

"-and we should be hearing back from them shortly. Please stay tuned."

"Sammy!" Dean shouted, and Sam flicked the radio station off just as the man finished saying, "This is 96.8 Albuquerque News..."

"Dean, what?" Sam asked, confused, as he followed Dean's stare. At the sight, Sam's breath caught.

"Lock the back doors, Sam, now, _go_!" Dean said, patting Sam's back to get him reacting again. Startled back to reality by his brother's touch, Sam hurled himself over the seatback. He jammed his palm against the backseat door's lock on the left, then the right side.

"Grab the blanket, Sam - the heavy one," Dean called, referring to the army-grade wool blanket they kept in the back. Sam turned to snatch it up before vaulting himself back over the side and landing right next to Dean again. He looked through the windshield again, terrified.

"Dean- Dean we've never-" Sam turned to look at his brother in fear. _They'd never fought that many before._

Dean gave Sam a double-take and roughly brushed his hand down Sam's head and shoulders, then seized him at the waist and pulled him in against him again.

"It's gonna be okay, Sam, we're not gonna fight them," he murmured. "Pull it over your head when I tell you to, understand?"

"What about you?"

Dean bit his lip, for the first time looking worried. He shook his head once and bit his lip. Sam watched his brother, realizing that Dean had to keep watching the road if they were going to get past these things.

"Dean - Dean slow down. Why can't we take back roads?"

Dean shook his head and jumped at the sight of a car about 30 miles ahead swerve then crash into the wall of people marching on the highway's wet pavement.

"Oh jesus, Dean!" Sam cried, having just watched the same thing. They saw a woman dazedly open the door and fall out of the driver's seat onto the ground. Disoriented, she remained silent until she screamed in terror at the people that quickly swarmed around her. When the crowd surged and completely obscured their view of the woman, they heard the change in her scream from horror to pain. Dean started to shake involuntarily.

"Dean! Stop, stop the car! _Back roads_, Dean! We'll take the back roads!" Sam cried, pulling at Dean's shirt and shoulder. "Please stop, Dean, stop!" Sam begged, tears running freely. Dean bit his lip and looked over at his little brother, deep sympathy and apology in his eyes.

"No, Sammy," he whispered, his own voice pitched with fear, "The back roads'll be more dangerous."

"How do you know?!"

Dean glanced at Sam.

"Trust me. I know."

Dean clicked his seatbelt off for better mobility for when they'd reach the people. Sam looked at his brother, then back down at the blanket. Sam gasped a frustrated sob and ripped out of Dean's hold, leaning forward towards the floor of the car.

"Sam-?"

"At least slow down, Dean, I got an idea," Sam yelled, grabbing his backpack. Dean did as he was told and slowed down.

"What're you doing?"

"I got scissors," Sam said breathlessly, breaking out sharp ones to begin cutting patches out of the blanket. Dean's chest was still caught and compressed in fear but he acknowledged it was worth a shot. These things, "Soulers," his father called them, would only go after you if they saw your eyes. Obviously, Dean's eyes would be visible through the patches, but maybe a little less so if the blanket's patches were just slits.

Sam finished and huddled back up against Dean.

"Oh.. Okay here," he whispered, his voice trembling. He didn't ask Dean to stop driving; he just put his fingers through the blanket's holes and lifted them up to press against the bones under Dean's eyes. Dean stayed still and drove steady, making sure Sam wasn't going to poke his eyes out by jostling the kids balance. Sam whipped the blanket over Dean. A split-second of blackness and Dean was seeing through the blanket's holes - anchored there by Sam's fingers. "Does that work?" Sam asked urgently.

"Yeah, Sammy, good. Now get under," Dean used his right hand to lift the blanket up and Sam ducked underneath, grasping Dean's waist and pulling himself up to settle his head against Dean's chest. Under the blanket, Dean brought his hand down and squeezed Sam's shoulders and patted his back reassuringly before he moved it out, placing both hands on the wheel.

Dean took a deep breath and exhaled. He started slowing down as they came up just within a mile. The sounds of screams and shrieks coming from the mass of Soulers - and their victims - getting louder and more desperate as they approached.

"Dean..." Sam gripped his brother tighter under the blanket, hearing the sounds outside.

"Shh," Dean's voice wavered. "Here we go," he whispered, and started driving the car forward slowly, moving the speed down to five miles per hour so the Soulers would take note and move aside.

Dean held his breath as they entered through the wall. He thanked god his peripheral vision was shot to hell given the blanket's small slits: seeing the mass of Soulers flood around the car would've been his undoing. But he could still see the deathly pale cast of Soulers that wandered around on the highway directly in front of them. They were empty shells, mouths agape and staring around without really seeing, sopping wet and the wind pulling them to move back and forth in whatever direction it pushed them.

Sam heard a dull thump against the passenger seat and immediately pressed himself closer to Dean. Dean couldn't see; didn't want to see - he knew it was just a Souler banging against the car without regard. He maneuvered around the empty-eyed people and the crashed cars that lay scattered on the both sides of the highway. Luckily, the center was generally clear enough for him to push the Impala through. He saw a Souler up ahead, a middle-aged man in a sopping wet, torn and bloodied suit, stumbling straight for them. Dean prayed he would change his direction with the wind like the others but for some reason this one was more focused on the dotted center line of the highway. It was making an effort to follow the line - which meant it was on a direct collision course with the Impala. Dean considered driving around, but there were other cars and Soulers to the side.

As Dean moved the car forward, he slowly broke and let the car stop completely. He waited for the man to reach the Impala.

"Why're you stopping?!" Sam squeaked, panicked.

"Shut up," Dean breathed, scared himself that stopping the car would mean the end of them somehow. It felt wrong, but he needed the Souler to move around and he didn't want to run him over and possibly cause attention. He wasn't sure exactly how cognizant these things were: his father had never actually encountered one. He could feel Sam shivering against him, starting to cry softly. The car was idling, so Dean pulled his hand back under the blanket and tried to comfort the kid as best he could while his eyes remained transfixed on the approaching Souler.

Sam heard another thunk, this time heavy and coming from the front of the vehicle. Another thud, and Dean watched the Souler slam himself against the Impala's front again. Slowly, ever so slowly, the Souler came to the conclusion to move to the right. He kept his hand on the Impala, sliding it across the car's body and contours as he moved around it, feeling it as he languidly approached the driver's side door.

Dean realized he was shaking at the sight, too. This thing was so close and seemed more intelligent than the others. He licked his lips, held Sam closely, and watched as the man's chest came into view right next to him. The flimsy glass window of the driver's seat was the only barrier between Dean and the Souler.

After three seconds, Dean realized it was lingering. It stayed right next to them, right outside the driver's seat door, stumbling back and forth in the wind and torrential rain, but still remaining. Dean's fear caught up to him and his heart started beating rapidly. He cursed himself for it as he felt Sam grip him tighter. Sam was listening to his heartbeat, taking cues from it.

The Souler thumped against the driver's side door and Dean jerked away in fear, taking Sam by surprise. It thumped again and Dean grasped Sam with both hands, praying now that eventually the Souler would dumb down and just leave. Dean bowed his head under the blanket, pushing his face against the top of Sam's head. Sam scrambled in and fully into Dean's lap.

"It's okay, just be quiet," Dean whispered, adrenaline running through him. He leaned down and cringed just as he heard another thump against the driver's side door.

"Dean," Sam cried, out of breath. Dean felt his grip land on the handgun he'd thrown onto the floor of the seat well and lifted back up. He checked the cartridge under the blanket, his shivering brother still glued against him. He unlocked the safety.

"You got yours?" Dean whispered, feeling another thump against the car, only this time against the backseat door.

Suddenly he heard several raps against his window - awful uncoordinated slaps. The Souler was using his wrist and hand to lazily hit and slam the window next to Dean's head.

"Oh my god," Sam cried, his voice pitched in panic, hearing the sounds.

"Sammy calm down - where's your gun?" Dean asked, trying to sound calm even though his own voice came out strangled and strained. Dean felt Sam slowly unwrap a hand from around Dean's waist and reach out to the far side of the passenger seat. He brought it back, holding his own gun.

"Okay. It's gonna be okay," Dean whispered as he felt Sam give a breathy cry. He kissed the top of Sam's head, took a breath, and turned to look out the window, ready to shoot the son of a bitch.

Dean blanched when he turned. The Souler's face had been staring into the car and now it was staring straight into Dean's eyes.

"Oh fuck," Dean gasped.

* * *

**Writer's Note:** Thank you for reading! Please comment/review if you can spare a minute. I'd love to hear from you! ~ Alex


	3. Chapter 3

_Previously..._

_"Okay. It's gonna be okay," Dean whispered as he felt Sam give a breathy cry. He kissed the top of Sam's head, took a breath, and turned to look out the window, ready to shoot the son of a bitch._

_Dean blanched when he turned. The Souler's face had been staring into the car and now it was staring straight into Dean's eyes._

_"Oh fuck," Dean gasped._

* * *

The Souler's arm shot forward, shattering the window's glass and grasping Dean's head.

"DEAN!" Sam yelled as his brother shoved him off his lap.

"Sam get back!" Dean screamed as he landed a flat-palmed punch to his brother's chest, launching him off and into the passenger seat. The breath knocked out of him, Sam landed on his back along the benchseat just as Dean shouted with pain. The Souler was trying to pull him out through the window, leaning over into the car without regard for the broken shards digging into its arms and waist as he got further in to grasp and tug Dean out with incredible strength. Dean grunted and shouted as he struggled, hitting and knocking the damn thing off as best he could, but the Souler was stronger; determined.

Sam scrambled to get his bearings and spotted his gun. Picking it up, he heard the terrible sound of the driver's side door opening. He could feel the winds coming from outside breeze through and whip against his face - the heavy sound of the rain coming down outside. Sam looked back up to see that Dean had done it: had opened the car door to get out and fight the damn thing off.

"DEAN NO!" Sam screamed, his last word cut off by the sound of Dean slamming the door shut behind him.

Sam pulled himself to the driver's side, completely panicked and watching as Dean angled his shot to the Souler's head. With one loud boom, he saw the thing crumple to the ground, motionless. Dean stood there, breathing heavily, looking straight at the ground to prevent any other Soulers from spotting his eyes.

"Dean!" Sam yelled, his own eyes wide with fear for his brother. Sam heard a thump to his left and turned to see a Souler - a young woman wearing a white pantsuit stained with dirt and blood - shuffling up and feeling its way to the car from behind.

"SAM! DOWN!" Dean shouted, having taken a second to look up to check that Sam was all right. But it was too late; Sam had accidentally hit eye contact with the Souler and she shot forward at him, grabbing him easily inside the car. Sam screamed as she dragged him out and threw him to the pavement. Holding onto him tight, she looked up at Dean, her eyes blazing with insanity and desire.

"SAMMY!" Dean ran at the thing, keeping his gun down but ready to aim when he could make the shot. This Souler was smart too though, somehow. Sam was already struggling to get her off him, but she still held the upper hand in strength. Gripping his shirt and hair, she dragged Sam away from Dean as he approached. Kicking and screaming, Sam was towed around to the hood of the car. Dean was almost in range when he saw her pin Sam down on the ground and let out a wild scream.

The storm's wind and rain had been doing a good job of muffling the sounds of Dean's struggle with his Souler, but this women's scream pierced through it all. Dean stopped and turned, giving fleeting glances around him as he was surrounded by Soulers that all seemed to stop dead and turn, twisting their bodies around slowly and tilting their heads in a repulsive show of detached curiosity.

Dread washed over him as Dean realized the Soulers were angling their gaze at the woman holding his struggling brother.

"DEAN!" Sam cried.

Dean snapped back and rushed to get to his brother whose body lay prone and beaten on the ground as the Souler began to claw into him. Just as he was about to get in range, he realized too many other Soulers had heard the scream - they were approaching to get their fill _of Sam_, Dean thought with horror. Dean had to take care of them first.

He turned and made a shot: dead-center bull's eye into a Souler's head. He thought this would be like playing Whac-A-Mole until one of them came up right behind him. Dean turned and stared straight into them with surprise and the sight of Dean's pupils activated the Souler. Before it could make a move, though, Dean used the butt of his gun to swipe the thing's face. The thing stumbled, but it didn't fall. Not when it had caught sight of Dean's living eyes.

Cringing, Dean took a second to watch and consider. Judging on the number of Soulers around them and the unpredictable nature of their intelligence. any more time spent on fighting these things individually was going to result in their deaths. Dean saw the Souler stumble back to good and give a growl, preparing to rush him. Coming up with a plan, Dean sideswiped the Souler again as he abandoned his brother to get back to the car.

Sam screamed in pain and terror as he watched Dean leave his sight.

"Dean!" Sam cried, then gasped as the woman landed a heavy knee into his solar plexis, "Please! Come back.. for me!" Sam wheezed, sobbing, as he felt the Souler on top of him grab his hair and smash his head against the cement. Sam grunted and coughed in pain. Dazed, he couldn't focus and blearily looked straight up into the woman's eyes and face. He barely registered her glowing, excited eyes and an open-mouthed ravenous grin. Her teeth and lips held traces of red blood in them, and her hair was dirty and matted in the rain. Drops slammed into his eyes, mixing with his tears as he vaguely tried to fight the woman off, squirming ineffectively underneath her. Dean had left him. Dean was giving him up. It was hopeless now, but he was so scared that he still struggled; still tried to get out and away.

She pushed Sam's head down viciously, keeping it braced tightly against the grated, pebbled pavement. She pressed her thumb and forefinger over both his eyes, her other hand hungrily digging into his cheeks. Pulling Sam's eyes wide open, he felt the rainwater slam against his corneas, making them water all the more.

His stamina gone, Sam used his arms and legs in an attempt to slap out and hit the Souler as she kneeled her whole weight on top of him.

"Please... don't..." Sam begged weakly as he felt something getting pulled through him and then out of him.

"Dee- Dean...!" Sam hiccupped as he felt his soul start to drain out. His body started seizing in pain. His eyesight was garbled and warped: something was flowing between his eyes and into hers'. Suddenly a shot flew through him, something hot and sharp all made of energy and Sam screamed, feeling it explode inside and shoot around in panic. His soul was reacting; trying to get out of his body any other way besides through Sam's eyes and into the Souler. Sam gagged at the feeling, his entire body ready to give out and relent but he felt his soul fighting, frantically searching for a way out within him. Sam writhed back and forth on the ground under the Souler and he vaguely heard the woman growl deeply with disgusting satisfaction.

Just as Sam was starting to let go and lie still, his arms and legs falling into miserable defeat, he heard a thunderous boom overhead. Startling in surprise, his consciousness clicked into play just in time to register that he had seen the top of the Souler's head get blown off, flying past him and onto the pavement. He didn't hear it land as he inhaled deeply. The Souler's hold on him had been suffocating him. His eyesight coming back to normal, he realized she was still hovering over him: her body was swaying back and forth for a second even though her eyes were dead and her grip was limp. Sam thought she was going to fall down on top of him before she slumped off to the right somehow. In her wake, Dean was there standing over them. Sam realized that Dean had grabbed the Souler from the back before he'd taken the head shot. He must have kept her up for a second before throwing her to the side and off Sam.

Sam blinked tears, exhausted, as he stared up at his brother. Dean was holding the sawed-off and looking around as he stood over Sam.

"D-Dean," Sam's face broke into cries, sobbing for his brother and reaching out to him weakly in the rain from the ground. He saw Dean aim and shoot something again and Sam startled in fear at the sound. "Dean!" Sam begged for Dean to hear him, desperately wanting his brother to acknowledge him.

Dean didn't for a few seconds longer. Instead, he walked to Sam and stepped over him so that both feet were on either side of Sam's body. Sam felt something fall on top of him and touched it. Dean had dropped the wool blanket on top of him.

Knowing what it was for, Sam dutifully placed it over his head. Just then, Dean released several gunshots out into the air and Sam trembled in fear. His peripheral vision was shot to hell; he hadn't know exactly what Dean had been looking around at, but he could tell Dean was still threatened; still working on the premise that they were still in dire straits.

After the series of shots, Sam felt Dean crouch down over him.

"Dean!" Sam whispered in tears, reaching out to his brother again.

"Shh, Sammy," Dean whispered back, pushing his hand under the blanket and touching his little brother's face. Dean pulled Sam up to a sitting position and ducked under the blanket. Sam gripped Dean tightly. Both of them were sopping wet by now, but Sam could feel Dean's warmth. Dean wrapped his free arm not holding the gun around Sam's back and tilted them to the side to lie down on the pavement.

"Dean-?"

"We need to get under the car, you understand? Like right now," Dean whispered. Sam nodded and broke from Dean to do the army-crawl next to his brother. The two of them managed to keep the heavy wool blanket over them as they pushed their bodies under the Impala's carriage.

Dean cleared his feet and swiveled around to face the Impala's front. Sam did the same. Both of them were positioned under their respective front seats.

Out of the rain now, the ground was still wet but the storm's sounds were muffled underneath the Impala's floor. Sam felt like he could catch his breath for a second and Dean unexpectedly pulled the blanket off of them.

"Dean! But don't we need-?" Sam asked, alarmed. Dean tried to squeeze the blanket free of water as he shook his head.

"Nah they won't look for us under here; they won't see our eyes," he murmured. He dropped the blanket and turned on his side to reach for his little brother.

"Let me take a look at you," he whispered, inching closer to Sam and placing his hands on either sides of Sam's head and neck. Sam rolled on his side and put his hands up to rest on Dean's.

"I'm okay," Sam managed, suddenly looking down as Dean tilted his head, trying to find his little brother's eyes. Sam didn't want to keep crying; not now that Dean was here and had them safe for a little while. Still, Sam was suffering and scared and the lump in his throat was getting bigger.

"Sam?" Dean prompted, roughly pushing his hand over Sam's head affectionately. "Are you hurt?"

Sam shook his head, unable to speak for fear that he'd break. His eyes watered and he pursed his lips, trying so hard to keep himself in check.

"Okay, okay," Dean said, suddenly understanding and pulling Sam to him. Sam couldn't ever help it when Dean would crack his attitude and demeanor just for him in order to give the support he needed. Sam gasped with relief as he felt Dean gather him closer and push him against his chest. He finally let go with a sob under his big brother's hug. Dean started rubbing his back.

"Okay, it's okay. We're gonna get out of this," Dean promised as he felt Sam's shaking body under him.

"I... I thought... you'd left me," Sam cried, clinging to Dean as he confessed. Dean stopped his reassuring movements cold. Sam's chest clenched with anxiety. feeling like he was in trouble.

"_What?_" Dean asked, jerking Sam back from the hug and pushing him out so he could look his little brother in the eyes.

Embarrassed and frightened, Sam felt the loss of his brother's warmth and protection as he shuddered and shrank under Dean's death grip.

"I... I thought you'd left me," he said again, breaking into tears as he spoke, reliving the moment. Sam felt Dean's hand brush through his hair and pat his shoulders and arms.

"Sammy, look at me," Dean whispered seriously. Sam raised his eyes to his big brother's worried, concerned ones.

"I will _never_ leave you. _Ever_," Dean said with a pained expression. He held Sam's face in his hands now, pressing against Sam to emphasize his words. "Do you understand me?" He asked genuinely, worried that Sam wasn't going to. A tear dripped off Sam's nose and he nodded, again unable to meet Dean's eyes.

However much Sam believed or didn't believe his brother, he didn't really care.

"Okay Dean," Sam whimpered, sniffing, then reached out to his brother again. He didn't need the promise at the moment, he just needed Dean. Dean sighed and pulled Sam back in, enveloping him in his arms and letting him relax against him.

Dean hushed and hugged his quivering brother while paying close and careful attention to the feet that passed by; the thumps against the car that didn't sound like rain but rather the Soulers; any signs of intelligent movement. None of the Soulers were crouching down to look under the car. Dean had been right about that which meant that they had time. Time for Dean to comfort his little brother before they got out from under the Impala and make a break for it before any new Soulers could spot their eyes.

Dean pressed his lips against the top of Sam's head.

"Never, Sam," he whispered, "Okay?"

"Okay," Sam cried, his voice softened by the layers of Dean's clothes that he'd burrowed into. Dean nodded and carded his fingers through Sam's hair.

After a few minutes, Dean realized Sam had moved from shivering in fear and insecurity to shivering from plain cold. He wrapped his arms more fully around Sam, trying to warm him up. He heard Sam whimper in surprise but resettle in his brother's arms.

"It's too cold," Dean whispered carefully.

"Yeah," Sam agreed, not realizing what he'd just signed on for.

"You listening to me?"

"Yeah."

"Good. I'm going to get out of here... and you're coming with me," Dean resolved, his breathing and certainty firm and steady. Sam hugged Dean closer and nodded.

"Okay. This is what we're going to do," Dean said, pulling Sam gently back so that he could look into his eyes. Sam looked up at Dean, worried and scared and Dean brushed his hand down Sam's face. "Don't be scared, Sammy," Dean murmured and Sam gulped and nodded. "This is what we're going to do. I'm going to pull out wearing the blanket and I'm going to pull you out with me. I'm going to cover your eyes with my hand-"

"Dean, no - I can just close them," Sam begged, his voice pitched.

"Sh, shh, Sam, no," Dean replied calmly, drowning out Sam's pleas. "You won't - you'll automatically open your eyes if I do something - or if something happens to me," Dean reasoned. "It's going to be okay. Nothing bad's going to happen. The worst is over, Sammy," Dean added, rolling Sam back into a small embrace before letting go again.

"I pull you up and we both get into the car. We start driving again. As simple as that, okay, tiger?"

Sam swallowed again and nodded fast, blinking and trying to hold his heart beat in check.

"Okay, okay Dean," Sam breathed. With that, Dean nodded and started backing up to the driver's side of the car. Sam army crawled his way, following his brother. Dean dipped his head back to look out from beyond the car door. After checking things out, he ducked his head in to look at his brother.

"Okay roll over," Dean barely whispered, pulling the blanket over himself. Sam did as he was told and rolled over so his back was to Dean. He felt Dean's strong, steady hand wrap around him and land in the center of his chest. Sam's hands flew to Dean's as his breathing started to pick up pace. He felt like he was about to have a heart attack whatwith the number of adrenaline highs and lows he'd been going through for the past three hours. Dean pulled Sam's back to his chest and began to narrate his actions in whispers.

"I'm watching for a break in the crowd - watching for the best time for us to get up and into the seats. When we get in I want you to drop to the seat well, okay?"

Sam nodded, grasping at the hand and wrist clutching him so tightly. It didn't feel like Dean was just holding him; it felt like Dean was holding him together - holding him so he wouldn't fall apart. And it was working.

"Okay... Okay I think the time's coming up," Dean murmured in anticipation. Sam felt Dean's body tense and shift behind him.

"Dee-" Sam breathed.

"It's gonna be okay," Dean whispered back. With that, Sam felt Dean's other hand cover Sam's eyes and fought the urge to rip it away. He bit his lip and started to hyperventilate in fear as Dean pulled him out from under the car. The storm's sounds exploded into their eardrums as the rain and wind battered against them. Dean pushed Sam into the car and Sam settled himself into the seat well, not yet having actually _seen_ a single Souler.

The sound of the driver's side door slamming shut brought only momentary relief; the window was shattered and Dean was likely sitting on and around the broken shards. With the window open, the weather's noise and thunder penetrated easily into and through the Impala's interior.

It didn't matter, though. Still covered by the blanket, Dean turned the engine over and started moving the car forward again. Slowly.

* * *

**Writer's Note 1: **Thank you so much for reading! I want to apologize that I haven't gotten back to very many reviewers yet, but I swear it will happen soon! For _this_ chapter, though, if you can spare the time, I'd love to hear what you thought. And I'll get back to you all soon - I promise I'm super appreciative of each and every one of your comments/reviews! Thank you so much again!

**Writer's Note 2**: So, I realized that I've been writing Sam as pretty young for a 12/13 year old. I thought I'd switch their ages for the sake of plausibility - Sam is now 10/11 years old - Dean 14/15. Hope that's okay! :) ~ Alex


	4. Chapter 4

Dean drove through the thick of Soulers carefully. Eventually they made it through and Dean slowly accelerated until they were back to sixty miles per hour. The wind and rain pummeled into the interior of the car from the driver's seat window and Dean had to speak up in order to be heard.

"Sam, you okay?"

Dean glanced at Sam. Sam was still shaking but nodded, looked behind him, and turned back to Dean.

"You're hurt," he said weakly.

"I'm fine."

Sam stared at Dean, stunned. He didn't want to argue but he had to convince Dean somehow that they needed to stop off somewhere. Dean was bleeding, the car's window was shattered leaving him vulnerable and no matter what, they needed to find a place to sleep in relative safety.

Sam suddenly leaned forward into Dean's space as an idea occurred to him. They were probably...

"Dean we're low on gas," he said, tapping the meter with his finger. Dean shifted and looked down.

"Shit," he whispered.

"We gotta stop off somewhere anyway, Dean. We gotta fix the window."

As if Sam's words were a reminder, Dean wiped his face free of the water that was pelting in through the window.

"Okay," he said slowly, steeling himself and gripping the wheel of the Impala. Sam watched Dean with apprehension. He glanced over and gave Sam a double-take.

"What?" He asked, seeing his brother's expression, "We'll stop off at a rest stop. It's the only option we have."

"What about towns? Getting off at one of these suburbs?" Sam ventured quietly. Dean immediately shook his head.

"We can't do that, no."

"Dean," Sam paused for emphasis, starting to get annoyed, "What the hell is going on? What do you know?"

Dean bit his bottom lip, his brow furrowing.

"Tell me! Please, Dean!" Sam begged loudly over the wind and rain blowing between them in the front seat.

"Okay - Sam?" Dean started, reaching a hand out to his brother. Sam leaned in and moved closer as Dean put his arm around his shoulders and squeezed. "I - Listen, I promise you I'll tell you. But not right now, okay?"

"De-"

"It... I can't explain it all to you right now and I have to focus. I promise I'll tell you, though."

"Does it have something to do with Dad's last case?"

Dean winced and bit his lip.

"Yes," he managed, "but don't ask me any more questions, all right?" Dean squeezed Sam again and saw Sam nod in his peripheral vision.

"Okay, good," he said calmly. A few moments of silence passed. "Sorry."

"S'okay," Sam breathed dully.

...

Twenty minutes later, Dean had started to feel chills streak through his spine and his body gave off shivers. He thanked god Sam had moved away from his side to look out his window. He didn't want to frighten the kid but... yeah, they needed supplies. Dry clothes, disinfectant, bandages...

As Dean made the list in his head, he spotted a rest stop up ahead.

Cringing at the sight, he shifted and slowed, angling into the right lane. He sighed heavily and glanced at his pale, alert little brother staring out the window.

"This it?" Sam asked, still looking out as Dean veered onto the ramp and slowed down as he twisted the car around the curves that would eventually lead to the rest stop parking lot.

Dean didn't bother to answer his brother: it was obvious this was it. Sam shifted in his seat nervously, his eyes wide as he moved his gaze to the windshield as the rest stop came into view in front of them.

It was a small compound with a minimart and bathrooms out back. The parking lot had about five cars parked together out in front. Dean sidled the car next to one of them - closest to the off-ramp - as he parked.

The wind and rain still crashed down with fury, but it wasn't as bad now that the car had stopped moving. Dean kept the engine running as he looked around outside through every possible window and mirror to gauge any threat.

"So far so good," he mumbled, turning back to the wheel and cutting the engine.

"But there are cars-" Sam trailed off as Dean pulled his handgun out and checked it. He reloaded it and set it down on his lap. He gestured to Sam. Sam handed him his gun.

"Employees maybe," Dean replied, checking Sam's gun.

"Not five of them - it's just a minimart," Sam said reasonably.

"We can handle it," Dean said, his words final as he held up one of the guns. "This one's normal."

"Okay."

"You stay behind me, no matter what, understand?"

Sam shivered a second but nodded.

"Okay."

"Wall's the signal, you got it?"

"Dean-" Sam started, worrying his lip in fear. He looked up at his big brother with watery eyes.

"Hey, hey," Dean set the guns down in his lap and braced Sam's face gently. "It's gonna be okay. Okay? Quick in and out - odd's are the place is abandoned, anyway? Don't worry," he said calmly, brushing Sam's hair back. Sam gulped and nodded.

"Okay, you ready?"

Sam's eyes said no, but he nodded and Dean felt like that was as good as he was going to get. Still looking into Sam's eyes, Dean pulled a hand over and opened the door. Wind howled inside and it did something to snap Sam back into reality: back into what their mission would be - how he needed to swallow his fears and do what needed to be done. Like Dad taught him.

Dean gave Sam's shoulder a squeeze before removing contact and getting out of the car. He turned around and bent over to grab the guns he'd left on the seat. He gave Sam a meaningful look as he stashed the 'not-normal' gun into his back waistband. Sam nodded at his expression and Dean kept the normal gun in hand as he reached for Sam with the other.

Sam took his brother's hand and shifted his way out the driver's side door.

"Okay! You remember! Stay behind me!" Dean yelled over the winds and rain to his little brother. Without waiting for a reply, Dean shoved Sam behind him and felt the kid grab onto his jacket as he started walking towards the door of the minimart. Sam stumbled his way there but never let go.

Dean walked with a dual purpose of caution: watch out for any potential threat, keep Sammy safe. Vigilance was starting to sharpen his senses to a razor.

They reached the double doors and Dean angled to the side of them, squinting to see inside as he pulled an arm back to hold Sam closer against him. He felt Sam's arms wrap around his waist under his jacket.

Dean wiped the window clear and looked inside again. The lights were off. Looked like nobody was home.

He pushed one of the doors open slowly and heard the bell above it start to jangle hollowly. He stayed outside, angling his gun into the store.

"Hello?!" he called out. "Anybody here?!"

Sam heard nothing but his brother's calls above him. Dean couldn't have heard more because he felt his brother's hand on his back again, indicating that they were going to move.

Together, they shuffled inside and Dean closed the door, making the damn bell jangle again. Its tinny sound was all Sam could hear besides Dean and his breaths. They waited there, leaning against the double doors, listening for any sound or noise.

It was empty save for the humming of the refrigerators that sold soft drinks and ice cream.

"Okay," Dean whispered slowly, a hint of relief in his tone. He kept his gun at the ready but Sam could feel his brother relaxing by a fraction. "We'll go aisle by aisle and get what we need," he planned.

"I can-"

"No, you stay with me, Sammy," Dean interrupted quietly. Sam relented more as a favor to his brother. Dean stepped forward slowly.

"Grab a basket," he whispered to Sam just as he grabbed one of his own. Sam followed suit and they entered into the first aisle.

"Mm...munchies," Dean murmured hungrily. Sam looked up and saw a glint of humor in his brother's eyes. Sam actually smiled at that and grabbed a bag of Sun Chips. Dean pulled Doritos and when they got to the candy section, M&Ms and Ding-Dongs.

They turned the corner to the next aisle. The supplies they really needed were here. Dean grabbed a few Johnson & Johnson's first aid kits as well as some Ace bandages and wraps. Sam grabbed as many medications as he could, practically sweeping the shelf off with his arm.

As they turned for the next aisle, Dean felt Sam pull the back of his jacket.

"What?"

"Sunglasses," Sam whispered back, pointing at the display rack. Dean pinched his face as he looked back at Sam.

"What?" he asked bluntly. Sam looked at him with barely concealed exasperation.

"For the _Soulers_, Dean."

Dean thought for a second and then got it. The shades would conceal their eyes. Dean immediately turned back around and grabbed several pairs.

"You're a genius," he whispered, rubbing Sam's back as he angled them into the next aisle. Sam smiled to himself as they kept going.

The next aisle featured toiletries and Dean pulled a pack of ten toilet paper rolls out for Sam to carry.

"Toilet paper?"

Dean shrugged.

"You know as well as I do how gross it is to have to substitute," he murmured, knowing that Sam would understand his subtle reference to John's camping trips. Sam huffed and gave a crooked smile as he got comfortable with the pack under his arm.

As they reached the end of the toiletries, they were closer to the back corner of the room where three or four small clothes racks stood. Dean walked over to them with Sam in tow. He bent down and tugged at a men's black hoodie with the words, 'New Mexico,' in bubbled letters splashed across the front.

Sam snorted, thinking of Dean in the hoodie.

"Shut up," Dean breathed. He was still injured, soaking wet, and freezing from having the broken driver's side window allowing the rain and wind bombard him when he drove sixty miles per hour. He came to a decision and started stripping his jacket and tattered outer shirts off. "Go find some in your size, " he whispered the order, pulling his final shirt off over his head and grabbing a long-sleeved, 'University of New Mexico,' t-shirt. He proceeded to layer as much as he could, hoping the starched cotton would do well to mitigate the cold when they got back into the Impala.

He pulled the sweatshirt on and looked over at Sam who was back at his side with his own New Mexico themed wardrobe stashed in the basket.

"Put the hoodie on now," Dean said lightly and Sam did as he was told, setting the basket on the floor and pulling the hoodie over his head. "Okay good?" Dean asked. Sam nodded and they moved on to the final aisle.

On one side along the wall, the refrigerators hummed and Sam peered through the glass as he fell in step behind his brother. He hefted the pack of toilet paper up absently as Dean perused the contents on the other side of the aisle: more snacks, odds and ends. Picking up and dropping a few things here and there into the basket. He was warming up now and felt twenty times better than he had. They were almost through - it was this aisle and then they'd go.

Just as they were reaching the end of the aisle, a cold suction sound echoed through the mart and Dean swung around to look where it'd come from. He glared at Sam's face, cringing from having made the loud sound as he had opened one of the doors to the refrigerator.

"_Sam_! What the _hell_ are you doing?!" Dean whispered. The refrigerator's self-monitoring temperature kicked in and the humming sound ramped up as it auto-released a higher temperature. The whole side of the wall thrummed loudly.

"I'm sorry," Sam mouthed. "S-string cheese..." he said quietly, pointing at the shelf.

"Are you serious?!" Dean murmured, pissed, walking towards his brother and looking inside. He grabbed the pack of string cheese and threw it harshly into Sam's basket. He closed the door calmly, letting it fall back into place without a sound. He grabbed Sam and pulled him behind him, angling his gun back up and around the convenience store.

The two of them waited, breaths bated, to see if the noise had alerted anyone - any _thing_. Dean let out a breath after a slow ten count and grabbed at Sam again without looking.

"C'mon we're going," he whispered, and they darted out from the aisle, moving towards the door. They reached the cashier's desk and Dean halted.

"Dean-?" Sam asked. Dean turned around and leaned over to take a look at the cash machine. He pressed a few buttons and the thing binged and opened.

"Dean," Sam said heavily. Dean grabbed the cash and pulled back.

"What?"

"Dean," Sam repeated, his eyes unmoving from the double-doors. Dean turned and saw a tall, dark figure hunched over outside. He couldn't make out any features but it just stood there, obviously a creature: obviously sentient as it stood still outside with the rain pounding against his body as it looked in. Dean let go of his basket and pulled out his gun, about to angle it at the figure when a woman's voice cut through the room.

"My, my, my," she said smoothly, threateningly. Dean grabbed his brother and pulled him behind him at the same time he turned to find the source of the voice. "...said the spider to the fly..." the woman finished playfully. She was in the corner by the clothes and approaching with a casual stride just as the door's bell jangled and Dean pushed Sam backwards, trying to keep as much distance as possible from both creatures.

The figure outside came in, dripping wet and grinning from ear to ear. The two of them exuded sinister intent and Dean couldn't quite put his finger on it but he knew they were supernatural by nature. They could both obviously pass as humans though, so they had probably existed before the storm.

"What are you," Dean growled, eyeing the woman as the man held his ground, waiting for the woman to sidle up next to him.

The woman shrugged lightly.

"Just a coupla monsters that'll give ya a better death 'n anything out _there_," she sneered.

Dean couldn't help but gulp with fear. In the back of his mind, he zeroed in on her words: she had confirmed there were only two of them.

At that, he shot the man dead-center in forehead. The man stumbled backwards, then righted himself, shaking himself back to clarity.

"Y'all right?" the woman asked lazily. The man grunted in response and moved back into place. The woman looked at Dean with an expression of disgruntled madness.

"That wasn't a smart move, baby," she drawled, then shot forward to knock the gun out of Dean's hand at the same time she punched the side of his face. Dean yelled out with pain and heard Sam call out his name as he grasped Dean's waist, reminding him of his responsibility to stay upright and shield his brother. Dean faltered a few seconds, hunched over and waiting for more blows, but they didn't come.

"...Dean?" the woman repeated, feigning an impressed tone of voice. "Oh god," she said, starting to laugh. Dean felt Sam's trembling hands reach up around his waist and Dean managed to straighten up and look back into the woman's eyes, staring daggers with his own.

The woman tilted her head and shifted her gaze to Sam, "then this must be little _Sammy_," she emphasized, relishing the name on her tongue. "Sammy, you proud of your father?" she asked gently, her focus utterly fixed upon Sam as he watched her from behind Dean's body. Sam didn't say anything but Dean felt his little brother's body start to shake. After a few seconds, the woman stood back up and looked at her male companion. "Because damn it all if _we_ aren't," she announced loudly, laughing. "Ah, boys, your daddy opened hunting season with one _hell _of a bang!"

Dean tightened his grasp on his brother's back, pressing him closer against him and backing up further. The man started moving in further and Dean's brows furrowed, noticing a blue tinge mottling the man's face that he hadn't seen before. The woman walked in step with the man, smiling gleefully. As Dean backed up further, he watched her skin's hue changing as well.

"Djinn," Dean spat, figuring out what creatures they were. His brain flipped through his memories to figure out what killed them. Silver dipped in lamb's blood.

"Ding ding ding!" The woman called out in response, smiling.

_Shit_, he thought, _no way can we get lamb's blood_. He had shot the man with the normal gun, but the one in his waistband held the silver and iron rounds. Hopefully the silver in them would do enough to injure...

Dean took one more step back and stopped right before he was going to press Sam against the wall. At that, he felt Sam reach under his sweater and place his hand on the gun under his waistband.

"So you know now, Dean," she whispered seriously, "that I speak the truth," she walked closer, leaning in, "you're never get another chance to die so happily," she tempted, her oily voice deep, breath shallow.

Dean considered, looking into her chilling, icy blue eyes and watched as blue veins started to streak up and show themselves on her neck then spread up to her face. He slowly felt around Sam's back behind him and rubbed it affectionately. He felt Sam's hand - the hand not resting on the gun against his waistband - press a palm against his side in return. Sam was ready.

Dean nudged Sam backwards against the wall and Sam's hand lifted the gun out of Dean's waistband and pulled it up along Dean's side. He shot at the woman without hesitation and nailed her in the chest.

"AGAIN!" Dean yelled, throwing his hands over Sam's and aiming the gun true. Sam pulled the trigger and the bullet went into her skull. She crashed to the floor.

Dean angled the gun with Sam at the charging man.

"Pull!" Dean yelled and Sam pulled the trigger. With Dean's help on aiming, the Djinn went down. The two of them stood, watching the writhing bodies on the floor. The Djinn weren't dead, but silver to the cranium looked like it was still doing the trick.

Dean shivered, adrenaline coursing through him, and he tried to snap out of it. He looked back at Sam, who was staring, unblinking, at the monsters on the floor.

"C'mon," Dean called, jumping over their bodies and reaching for Sam's hand. Sam kept staring at the bodies, shock written on his face.

"Sammy! Sammy c'mon," Dean pushed urgently, waving his hand at Sam and finally just grabbing it. Sam jumped and looked up. "C'mon we gotta go, tiger, c'mon," Dean coaxed and Sam nodded, taking jittery jumps as he held Dean's hand in a death grip.

They were just about to leave with their baskets when Sam stopped and turned around.

"Sam- _Sammy!_" Dean yelled, wondering what the hell Sam was looking at.

"Sh-She came from the back," Sam stuttered, staring at the door in the corner of the mart where the clothes racks were. The door was marked, 'employees only.'

"Yeah, so?"

Sam turned to look up at Dean then turned back to the door, conflicted.

"Wh...What if there are people? The... The cashier-"

"They'd be dead, Sam, _c'mon_," Dean steamrolled over Sam's concerns and grabbed his little brother's hand. Sam ripped it away from him.

"_NO_, Dean!" He yelled. "They're _Djinn_!" He whispered vehemently, as if communicating everything just by making the same identification that Dean had awhile ago. Dean looked confused at his little brother and shook his head. _I don't get what you're saying._

"Dean, they keep their victims alive for awhile," he explained, his voice small.

Dean realized what his little brother wanted; he wanted to go into the employee's room and see if they could save anyone. Dean looked at his brother, his expression melting into a silent plea.

"Sam, no, c'mon we gotta go-" He said, hazarding weak tugs on his brother to just come with him on this. They had to think about themselves and who _knew_ when the Djinn they'd put down would regain their strength.

"No, _Dean_!" Sam squealed quietly, struggling to get out from his brother's hold. He backed up and pointed at the room, "Dean, we gotta save them! We... We do!" Sam whispered, his eyes innocent and wide.

Dean stopped and bit his lip, looking between Sam and the door a few times. Sam waited for him, begging him to do this.

Dean steeled himself and gave the slightest twitch of a nod. Sam dropped his basket and Dean left his on the floor as well.

"You stay behind me," Dean whispered, his voice wavering with fear at what they were going to find. They moved stealthily around the walls of the mart until they reached the door in the corner. Dean braced Sam up against his back until he felt like Sam was gripping him tightly enough. With one hand on the gun, he used the other to push the door in slowly, silently, and let his gun lead them in.

The room was dark, the lights off and the storm blanking out any chance of sun. As their eyes adjusted, Dean's face paled when he registered the silhouettes of several hanging bodies.

"Oh my god," Dean whispered hoarsely.

* * *

**Writer's Note:** Thank you to shookenuppepsi for mentioning sunglasses (she's a genius, lol). Also thank you to all the anons and Ruby and supersamkan for having left reviews asking me to update this story! Please comment/review if you can spare the time! Thank you!


	5. Chapter 5

Dean felt Sam paw his arm.

"De...Dean, I'm gonna be-" Sam's voice was strangled and at the last second, Dean tore his gaze away to grab his brother. He doubled over, nearly collapsing and threw up.

"Shh," Dean whispered, holding Sam up as the kid convulsed under him. It was short-lived. Heaving breaths, Dean started to feel Sam relax. "Okay, c'mon," he said as he practically carried Sam to the threshold of the door and set him down. He angled Sam's pale, sweaty face up.

"S'gonna be okay, Sammy," he murmured, pulling the sleeve to his sweater over his hand to wipe Sam's mouth off. Sam barely flinched, still struggling with shock. Dean used another part of his sleeve to absorb the sweat off his face.

"Are-are they..." Sam coughed, "alive?"

Dean gulped and looked back into the room. Torn, he admitted that he couldn't turn back on these souls now. Not if one of them was still alive.

"I'm gonna go check. Two seconds, Sam, two seconds. Can you hold on for me?"

Sam swallowed convulsively and nodded. Dean brushed his hair back.

"Okay," he breathed, and toggled the gun in his hand, prepping himself to go inside.

Dean stepped around each body in the dark, trying hard only to look for the necks to check for pulses. He reached the fifth body in the far corner without luck and swore under his breath.

"Dean?" Sam called out.

"They're all dead," Dean whispered, his voice sounding devoid of life as well. He stepped through the room, carefully avoiding the bodies, and made it back to Sam.

"C'mon, time to go," he said, reaching down to pick Sam up. Sam raised his arms and went with it, getting his bearings as Dean raised him to stand.

After that, they flew out of there, grabbing their baskets from the floor, the Djinns still writhing five feet away. The two of them busted out of the minimart and into the raging winds. Dean halted as Sam ran towards the passenger seat of the Impala. He stopped when he turned and saw Dean had stopped.

"Dean! C'mon!" Sam yelled. Dean bit his lip, the rain smattering over him as gusts slammed against him. He looked at the Impala's shattered driver's seat window, its low carriage, its inability to manage terrain rougher than gravel or mud, and its high-maintenance as a vintage beauty that he had one day dreamed of inheriting...

He didn't want to... He _really_ didn't want to, but there were too many disadvantages. He had to look out for them both - make practical choices and sacrifices to make sure they would stay alive and not just in the short-term.

Dean licked his lips, tasting rainwater, and cringed as he took in the silver four-wheel-drive Jeep Cherokee parked next to the Impala.

"Dean!" Sam screamed over the storm as he watched his brother shoot over to the Jeep, trying the doors.

"Sammy we gotta take a different car!" Dean yelled just as the door behind the passenger seat opened when he tugged on it. Sam ran over to his brother's side.

"But-!"

"Don't argue with me! Throw your stuff inside and help me!" Dean yelled, throwing his basket into the back seat. Sam followed Dean's orders, throwing his stuff inside as Dean ran over to the Impala and popped the trunk. Sam got out and checked if the Jeep's trunk was open - it wasn't, so he ran back into the open seat and jumped over the seatback to unlock the trunk from the inside. Just as it opened out into the empty parking lot, Dean arrived, dripping wet holding their weapons bags. He dropped them off with Sam and ran back for more as Sam arranged them in the back. When he was done, Sam turned back around, scanning the interior of the Jeep, wondering if there was anything they could use.

It was surprisingly cozy - several lightweight blankets were scattered in the backseat and the interior wasn't leather but a worn navy blue fabric stretched over the seats. It was torn in some places, cushion fluff breaching out. It was clear this car had been worn-in, almost lived-in, and there was something in that. Something Sam couldn't quite put his finger on, but he appreciated it nonetheless. Eased the loss of the Impala by a fraction.

"_Sam!_" Dean's harsh yell interrupted Sam's reverie and Sam turned back to his brother. "Sam come check I didn't miss anything!" Dean called out. Sam nodded and scrambled to get out of the car from the backseat. He ran with his brother out to the Impala and looked inside. Everything had been cleared out - the trunk, the backseat. The trash from their McDonald's dinner the night before still remained in the side panels of the passenger seat. The driver's side window shattered, rain was already starting to pool into the front bench seat and ruin the leather. Sam stared inside, feeling empty and lost. Dean came up to his side and wrapped an arm around Sam to pull him against his side.

The rain poured down on them as they remained still, gazing into the only place either of them had ever felt could qualify as, 'home,' feeling the same sense of grief.

This was it. From now on, they were unanchored. They only had each other.

Sam sniffed and wiped his eyes, feeling Dean squeeze him against his side reassuringly.

"We'll miss you baby," Dean said evenly. Sam nodded and leaned his head against Dean. He felt Dean rub his back a couple of times and look down.

"C'mon Sammy," he said, starting to nudge his brother back to the Jeep. Sam went with him until he spotted something in the back seat. He wrenched away from his brother.

"Sam-?!"

Sam jumped into the backseat and grabbed the little green army man stuck in the ashtray. Using all his strength, he tore the thing off and pocketed it. He turned around and saw Dean leaning in, looking for him.

"Okay! I'm good!" He yelled back, scooting himself into Dean's arms and got back to standing outside.

"Okay let's go!" Dean called out, starting to jog around to the back seat of the Jeep. The two of them climbed in and jumped over the bench seat to get to the front. Dean settled in the driver's seat, Sam the passenger, and as Dean fidgeted with the wires to get the Jeep started, Sam jammed the little green soldier into the ashtray next to him.

The car started and Dean snapped with victory before he shifted to reverse. He glanced at Sam before he looked all the way back and maneuvered out.

"Keep an eye out for tow trucks now while we're driving, Sammy," Dean murmured, shifting to drive once they got out of the spot.

"What? Why?"

"They have master keys to cars - if we gotta ditch this one, we gotta be able to take another fast without the time spent on hot-wiring," Dean explained distractedly as he drove them out of the parking lot and turned on the radio. It was all static and Dean continued to fiddle with it.

"Dean - you gonna tell me what's going on now?"

Dean sighed as he turned the car out onto the highway and accelerated. He turned the radio off.

"Yeah go ahead," Dean allowed.

"What was Dad working on?" Sam asked immediately.

Dean shook his head.

"I don't know that much about it. Dad said he was working on something that had to do with demons-"

"The demon that killed Mom?" Sam probed gently. Dean shook his head.

"No, like... _all_ demons," Dean clarified. He paused for a second. "-And I know he was working with Bobby on it."

"_Bobby_ was here?!" Sam asked, alarmed. If what their father was working on brought _Bobby_ out into the field, it was... unprecedented. Dean nodded, his expression grave.

"Yeah he needed Bobby's expertise on it..."

"Where are they now?!" Sam asked, his voice pitching with anxiety. Dean winced and licked his lips.

"No, I don't know, Sammy," he replied quietly, "Dad just told me before he left this morning that if something happened..." he trailed off.

"-What?! If something happened, _what_, Dean?"

"That I'd have to take you and get out. Get to the rendezvous..."

"Jesus _Christ_," Sam whispered, knocking himself back against the seat. Dean remained silent, fixated on the highway.

"What's happening right now though? The Soulers - they... we've never seen that before. Not in such huge numbers."

"Something got released, I think. I think the demons were trying to start this..."

"And Dad and Bobby were trying to stop it," Sam finished Dean's sentence. Dean nodded, his heart starting beat faster at the implications. "Do you think they're dead?" Sam asked, his voice cracking.

Dean swallowed nervously and blinked the tears out of his eyes. He shook his head.

"No. I don't," he said grimly, but full of resolve. "We're going to find them at Greenbrier. They'll be waiting for us there."

They sat in silence after that, Sam trying to rein in his doubts and pull strength from his brother's determined statement. Dean glanced over at his brother and waved him over.

"C'mere," he murmured, holding his hand out. Sam held out for a few seconds before scooting over towards Dean, letting him put his arm around him. "Can you sleep?"

Sam gave a thick laugh as he wiped his face.

"No," he drew out the word, sending the message that that was an impossible concept. Dean squeezed his shoulders and Sam leaned his head against Dean.

"Why can't we go into the back roads? Why do we have to take the highways?" Sam murmured.

"These things are targeting populated areas first."

"How do you know?"

"Wouldn't _you_? Common sense."

Sam nudged in closer to his brother.

"Yeah," he whispered the agreement.

They drove on in silence, the Jeep whistling through the storm on the slick, blackened highway.

* * *

Sam blinked, slowly coming to. He'd fallen asleep against Dean and had awoken to the sound of the car crunching gravel as it slowed.

"-We stopping?" Sam murmured, groggy, moving up from his hunched position. Dean pulled his arm from around Sam's waist as the kid stretched and moved to shift the car to park.

"Yeah."

"Where are we?"

"Hidden," Dean replied, a note of finality in his voice. Sam looked out the windows. The headlights were lighting up dense trees and foliage all around them. "We're stopping here for the night. C'mon, I need your help," he said as the engine died down. He picked up a flashlight and turned it on, swiveling over and landing himself in the back seat with a dull grunt. Sam followed suit, grabbing his own flashlight and jumping over the seat.

"Grab one of the first aid kits, will you?" Dean asked, pulling his sweater off. Sam nodded and grabbed it from the seat well where they'd thrown all the supplies. He turned back around to his brother, setting the kit down next to him as Dean held his flashlight in his mouth and lifted his t-shirt up.

Sam flashed the light around his abdomen, lighting up past scars and present scratches and gashes that had long since stopped bleeding.

"Dis'fect'nt," Dean murmured around his flashlight. Sam grabbed the bottle and unscrewed the cap as he handed Dean gauze. Dean took the two items and started cleaning and wrapping his wounds. Sam grabbed the New Mexico sweatpants and peeled his jeans off to change. When Dean was done with his dressings he did the same and the two of them hunkered down against the seats quietly, Sam pulling the blankets them, Dean settling himself lengthwise across the bench. He reached out to Sam and Sam, satisfied with having covered them properly, leaned in to lie alongside his brother.

"Everybody's dying right now," Sam whispered, settling his back against Dean's chest. Dean laid his arm over Sam.

"Yeah," he sighed heavily. "Not us though, Sam," he murmured, pressing his arm against his little brother for emphasis. Sam squeezed Dean's arm back. "Try to sleep."

"What're we doing tomorrow?"

"We're gonna keep going."

"Y'think we're gonna make it?"

"Yes."

Sam bit his lip, thinking, then shot up, jarring his brother.

"Whoa - what?" Dean asked, watching Sam turn the flashlight on and bend down and rustle around in the supplies. He came back up quickly and shined the light on what he'd found.

"You want some string cheese?"

Dean chuckled tiredly as Sam ripped the bag open.

"Sure, dinner of champions," he replied, reaching out to Sam for a stick. "Get the Doritos too, dude," he suggested, pulling himself up against the seat. A few seconds later Dean heard the _pop_ of the Doritos bag opening and Sam passed it over to set down between the two of them as they ate.

Sam leaned forward and grabbed the map from the front bench seat and opened it in front of them.

"Can you show me-?"

Dean nodded and grunted, his mouth full, and pulled the map over onto his lap. He shined the flashlight and let Sam sidle up against him as he pointed to where they were now: two hours outside Amarillo. He let Sam study the map as he outlined their route to West Virginia: route forty straight east 'till Knoxville.

"Dean, no way route forty's gonna be completely clear all the way through," Sam said, looking up at his brother. Dean shrugged slowly, trying but failing to come off nonchalant.

"We'll do the best we can. Last resort is we take back roads until we can get back on."

"Okay," Sam said softly. They continued looking at the map. Sam took a Dorito from the bag.

"Sam," Dean started, then stopped, unsure.

"What?"

"We're up against more than just monsters. You know that, right?"

"What do you mean?"

"Other survivors... They're going to be dangerous. It's not just going to be Soulers and Djinns that're going to threaten us."

Sam absorbed the information, thinking.

"Dean, if we can't trust other humans-"

"No, we'll trust them... Sort of. Just... I'm just saying... Just because they're human doesn't mean they're gonna be the good guys always, okay?"

"I already knew that, Dean," Sam replied seriously.

"Good," Dean nodded, solemn. "If we meet other humans, you still stick with me, you got it? Don't let your guard down."

"Okay."

"Okay."

* * *

Sam woke up with a start at the break of dawn, hearing static. Dean had hotwired the car again and he was fiddling with the radio up in the front seat.

"Dean-"

"_Shh_!"

Sam jerked up and pulled the blankets, which had been rearranged to cover him, off as he pushed forward to lean over the bench seat.

"Wha-" he whispered as the static disappeared and a voice came through the speakers. It wasn't as crackled and disjointed as the last broadcast they'd heard.

"We urge survivors to reach Oklahoma City's County Hospital as a point of contact. Dr. Alcome is the senior administrator of the shelter. Supplies and-"

Dean turned to Sam, eyes bright.

"Dr. _Alcome_, Sam. That's a hunter signal."

"What? When did it become a hunter signal?" Sam asked, groggy and confused. He rubbed his eyes and fell over onto the front seat.

"Nevermind. You'll see. But if Bobby and Dad are ahead of us - or if they're behind us - they'll hear and stop off here. I'm positive."

"I thought you said we shouldn't go near populated areas," Sam remarked, doubt in his tone. Dean looked up, a glint of hope in his eyes - the first Sam had seen since all this had started.

"Well yeah but... Sammy, if Dad's there..." He trailed off, looking to Sam. "We won't go if you don't want to."

Sam nodded and took a deep breath.

"Okay yeah. It's... It's along the way anyway, right?"

Dean grinned and tousled Sam's hair.

"Yeah. It's gonna be okay. We'll find Dad there, I bet you anything."

Sam's heart lifted, his brother's optimism starting to convince him that this was okay. That they'd be safe. Dean shifted the car and started rolling out of the forested surroundings.

"Hand me the pack of Ding-Dongs, will you?" Dean asked, opening his hand palm up in front of him.

Sam looked at Dean's hand, then up at his face with a harassed expression. Dean waggled his hand in front of him, smirking.

Sam rolled his eyes, sighed and turned over to grab the junk food from the bag in the back.

Just as Sam handed him the pack, they pulled out onto the interstate and Sam got a clearer view of the skies.

It was surreal. The storm had abated, but swirling, dark grey clouds still blocked the sun, throwing everything into a perpetual dusk.

"Wow," Sam breathed, leaning forward towards the windshield and looking up. Dean squinted to look up too. "This is what I always imagined the apocalypse to be like," Sam whispered with awed dread.

"You weren't too far off then, Sammy," Dean whispered back. At that, the engine revved as Dean pressed the pedal to the floor and fiddled with the crinkling pack of Ding-Dongs over the steering wheel. Sam sat back, watching the road as the Jeep shot down the highway heading East on route forty, Oklahoma bound.

* * *

**Writer's Note:** Thank you so much for reading! Please review/comment if you can spare the time!


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